


we'll be alright

by bellowbacks



Series: Steve/Bucky Flash Fics [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1930s, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Artist Steve Rogers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 03:41:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14662569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellowbacks/pseuds/bellowbacks
Summary: Steve's been talking about art classes that he'd love to take, but he knows he and Bucky can't afford it. Bucky's sneakier than Steve gives him credit for.





	we'll be alright

Brooklyn, 1936

It was a warm Tuesday when Bucky entered the apartment with forgotten dreams tucked in his back pocket and a warm, cookie jar smile playing at his lips. Steve was wrapped around himself under his favorite quilt in the window with a sketchbook balanced on his knees and a nub of a pencil clutched between three fingers. He was hard at work, but he still looked up when Bucky entered. 

“You’re gonna cook yourself if you spend all summer under that blanket, Stevie,” Bucky said as he set his worn-thin bag down on their scratched and dented dining table they had inherited from Steve's ma. 

Steve just scoffed and looked back at his drawing. “You know I won’t, Buck. I’m always cold,” he replied. His voice washed over Bucky and filled his weary body with a sort of must needed relief. 

Bucky just smiled and walked over to Steve, his old, leather boots still loud against the squealing floorboards of their small apartment. He managed to fit half of himself on the small seat that Steve occupied to glance over his shoulder at his paper. “I know,” he said in response to Steve’s statement and wrapped an arm around his thin frame as he looked.

Etched and shaded onto the page was the newest tree that had started growing in the park they could just see the corner of from their window. It was a sad, leaning sapling that needed the strength of man-hardened wood posts to keep it up. It seemed to have spirit though, and Bucky knew why it spoke to Steve out of all the trees in Brooklyn. 

“You’re home early,” Steve said softly and leaned his head into Bucky’s arm. “How was today?”

Bucky shrugged. “Fine, same as every day. You?” he asked and pulled Steve a little closer. Steve hummed. 

“Me too, same as always. I went and got us groceries, Ethel gave us an extra loaf of challah,” Steve said with a sunny, fond smile on his lips. Bucky grinned. 

“Ethel is good people. I have something for you, by the way,” Bucky said. His heartbeat against Steve’s side betrayed the cool exterior he tried to maintain. Steve turned and tilted his chin at Bucky. 

“And what is that, Buck?” he asked. His eyes crinkled right at the bottom where they always did. Bucky leaned in and brushed his lips against Steve’s cheek briefly before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the envelope that had been tucked inside. He held it out to Steve without a word. 

Steve accepted it in his small hand. His forehead wrinkled as he frowned at it, turning it over and sliding it open. When he saw the stack of money inside, he turned to look at Bucky. “What is this?” he asked. He was holding it like it was his mother’s jewelry, propped between the tips of his fingers. 

“Enough for those art classes you wanted,” Bucky said. He let his head fall back and thud against the wall so he could roll it and seem nonchalant. It didn’t seem to work. 

Steve’s mouth hung open just enough for Bucky to see his tongue moving as he tried to puzzle together the situation. “How- Buck, this is so much,” he said quietly. “I can’t accept this. We should use it to buy new shoes, a better mattress. I-”

“No, you’re taking those classes. I’ve been savin’ since you told me you wanted to take them, just took a few extra shifts,” Bucky said. Steve was staring at him with a heat that Bucky couldn’t quite place but knew he loved. 

“Bucky…” Steve said. Bucky heard the deep growling in Steve’s chest just barely touching his voice, and he would recognize that anywhere. Bucky pressed his lips against Steve’s forehead. 

“You’re gonna go, and you’re gonna draw so good, and then celebrities are gonna pay you to draw ‘em,” Bucky said with a smile, pulling back to look at Steve. “And someday you can buy me a drink at that bar you like, paint me a portrait, and that’ll be enough for me.”

Steve surged forward and wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck, kissing him harshly. His teeth touched Bucky’s and Bucky wrinkled his nose at the sensation. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve and pulled him close, noting that his skin was colder than Bucky’s despite the sun and the quilt. 

“I love you,” Steve whispered against Bucky’s mouth. Bucky grinned. 

“Punk.”

\-----

Avengers Facility, 2018

“Yeah, I remember,” Steve said as he kicked his feet up onto Stark’s ottoman. 

Bucky chuckled. “You were sick but you didn’t tell me,” he said. “You were normally cold, but in July? No way.”

Steve rolled his eyes and brushed his thumb over the back of Bucky’s hand. “I probably had a fever. I always seemed to have a fever.”

“And I always seemed to be stressed about you dying,” Bucky snorted. “Between sicknesses you were getting beat up and starting fights.”

Steve smiled fondly, but didn’t respond for a moment. When he did, his gaze seemed far away, out the window and into the clouds. “Do you remember that little park right by our apartment?” he asked. 

“And that tree you loved?” Bucky replied, watching Steve’s face. He was 82 years back, and Bucky didn’t feel any less in love than he had then. 

Steve blinked, and then looked directly at Bucky. “It’s my turn to pick our outing, right?” he asked. A smile grew across Bucky’s face, and he nodded. 

Within ten minutes, they were dressed, helmeted, and seated on Bucky’s motorcycle. Steve’s arms were wrapped around Bucky’s middle and they were racing towards New York City. Steve was warmer than Bucky, and even through his jacket Bucky swore he could feel his heartbeat. 

The ride was brisk and brief, and by the time they were entering the city, the sun was riding low in the sky. It took them a little while to get back to where they had lived all those years ago, but they passed the time recalling bakeries and diners and other little things that used to populate their day to day. 

They got to the park right as the vast expanse above started to turn pinkish around one edge. Steve took off his helmet and started walking while Bucky shook out his hair and watched him walk. The park was tiny, seemingly smaller than it has been 80 years ago, but it was big enough for a couple of old trees and a century of nostalgia. 

“It’s still going strong,” Steve called back to Bucky as he gestured to the tree. It had aged and grown and the posts that had previously supported it were long gone. Steve standing next to it with his hands on his hips made Bucky’s chest ache. 

Their life had been simpler then, but it hadn’t been easier. Steve had been on the verge of death more often than not, and Bucky had worked his ass off just to keep them afloat. Now money was a non issue, they could hold hands as they walked down the street, and neither of them had to fight to live. At least, not right now. Plus, Bucky wasn’t on a literal hair trigger to try to kill the love of his life anymore. 

“Remember when I got my first commission and I finally felt like I could contribute something to keeping us alive?” Steve said as Bucky came up beside him. 

Bucky looked at him. There was some sort of deep sadness right behind his eyes, just far enough to stay hidden. “Yeah,” Bucky replied and reached out, lacing his fingers with Steve’s. “And you took me out to dinner.”

Steve raised his eyebrows at Bucky. “You remember?” he asked. 

“Of course, Stevie,” Bucky said and smiled. “I remember all the dates you took me on. You’re my best guy.”

Steve looked at the ground, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Thank you for taking care of me, back then,” he said and gestured with their joined hands in the direction of their old apartment. “Thank you for acting like I was important, even when I could hardly get out of bed.”

“You were always stronger than me,” Bucky shrugged and stepped a little closer. “I’m just better at following orders.”

“And staying healthy for longer than a month at a time,” Steve chuckled and finally let himself smile. Bucky smiled back. 

“Yeah,” he said, “and that.”

The sun set behind them, casting a warm glow onto their joined hands. Tension slowly dripped from both of their muscles until nostalgia gave way to relief and love.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!
> 
> title from warm glow by hippo campus 
> 
> on twitter @peachfutch


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